


dandelion

by grisiasun



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Tumblr Prompt, also sumo, bec cant be a connor fic without good ol hank and good boi sumo, do you hear that sound, hank is mentioned, its exactly what you think, no beta we die like men, the sound of authors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 09:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grisiasun/pseuds/grisiasun
Summary: It's been a long night for Connor, and on the way to Markus' mansion he is greeted by his fondest memories of his love.





	dandelion

**Author's Note:**

> super indulgent fluff for the world's wholesome ship coming right up, served sweet for your pleasure ;^)
> 
> fic inspiration; [linky link](https://www.smollmikey.tumblr.com/post/134597616053/fluffyblushy-sentence-starters)

It was late. Connor lets out a deep sigh inside the taxi, his favored coin scrolling through his fingers. Work wasn't the best at the moment and Connor knows he could've done better today. Hank tells him not to beat himself up too much, but he couldn't help it. The android murder case wasn't going to solve itself. It was even worse that it was a serial murder, the best he can do is wait for a new victim for more evidence to pre-construct. It makes him sick.

He hopes Markus isn't next. Markus. Connor hoped he hadn't kept him waiting too long tonight, he knows Markus always takes the time to wait for him to come over or notify him that he's alright before going to sleep. Connor scowls at himself for cancelling their dinner date earlier. A memory of theirs unconsciously appearing in his thoughts.

_The RK200 pulls up a seat from the dining table. “Sit here, Connor.”_

_“Markus. I don't see how this is ideal. We androids don't need to eat.” Connor argues as he sits down in his seat while Markus sets the table with silverware._

_Markus laughs at the obvious. “Oh, I know. I just want you to humor me is all. You said once, you carried a forensics team in your mouth. So, I got curious and wondered, ‘Can you taste?’”_

_Connor blinks. “That's what you called me here for? To see if I can tell you the complex ingredients of your cooking?”_

_“Well,” Markus rubs at his neck, “I didn't say it was important, yet here you are.”_

_Connor flushes a bit. “Alright. Well, I can try.”_

_“Great! Wait here, I already got the food ready.” Markus hurries to the kitchen, leaving a flustered Connor in wait._

_It didn't take long for Markus to bound up to the table setting a wide tray of dishes, each to their own variety; from fresh fruits to home cooked meals. “Dig in.”_

_“Um, alright.” Connor sticks a finger towards the mashed potatoes._

_“Connor, no! Use the silverware.” Connor flushes again in embarrassment. He grabs the spoon, and picks at the mashed potatoes. He takes a side long glance back at the RK200, who looks excited to see how his experiment would work._

_With a gulp, he shoves the spoon into his mouth. At first the primary breakdown of all the ingredients filters itself into his mind palace, next came the atomic calculations. Connor was about to list them to Markus when he felt, another sense come into play._  
_The potatoes had a spice to them, peppery, but also mixed with milky butter and sour garlic that’s been mashed with sweet carrots._

_Connor looks up wide eyed at Markus. “So?” The leader says._

_“I — I can taste.”_

_Markus looks joyful as he laughs. “I know you can, Connor. I admit, I also can, as well as every deviant in Jericho.”_

_Connor's brows furrow and his head tilts a little to the side. “But, you said you — why did you lie?”_

_Looking a little bit sheepish, Markus says. “I just wanted you to find out that you can taste by eating my cooking. I meant no harm. I wanted it to be a nice first-time experience.”_

_Connor is staring down at the food, completely silent in thought. The silence was deafening to Markus. “Connor?” The RK800 doesn't acknowledge that Markus said anything. Markus, the ever-stoic leader of the peaceful protest, fidgets in place. “I'm sorry I lied to you, Connor.”_

_“That's not it.” Connor tears his eyes away from the food and onto Markus, a slight tinge of blue marking his cheeks. “I – um – ever since I deviated, half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything.”_

The taxi pings as his seat slides to the side, Connor drowns out the thank you message and takes long steps towards Markus' mansion. _‘Welcome home, Connor.’_ The way the alarm always greets him at the door brightens up his mood a little bit more. It was very sweet for Markus to show him he's welcome at any time.

_“Hello, Connor.” Markus beams at him from the door. “What brings you here today?”_

_Connor's lips pull a little smile. “The department gave me a day off, and Hank told me to go find something else to do today, other that walk and play with Sumo. I hope I'm not intruding.”_

_“Never, Connor. Come in and make yourself at home. You can set your coat up on the rack right there.” Connor's gaze was going around the lavish room until Markus pointed at the corner rack. He hangs his hand-me-down coat._

_“This is a beautiful place.” Connor comments._

_Markus chuckles, “That's one way to describe this house. Carl was always one for the eccentric furniture.”_

_Connor smiles a little more at the mention of the painter. “Well, it doesn't take away the feeling of home.”_

_“It really doesn't.” Markus softens his eyes at Connor, confusing the other before returning back to the usual looks he receives. “So, what do you want to do?”_

_Connor fidgets his hands for a moment, “Mind keeping me company? You don't have to, of course, if you're busy.”_

_“An offer I can't refuse. What about a game of speed chess? Loser has to keep a book on their head for the entire day.” A mischievous smile settles on Markus's face._

_The challenge sparked a competitive spirit in the RK800. “Lead the way.”_

_Laughter rang throughout the mansion._  
_‘Not fair, Connor!’_  
_‘It was a fair game, Markus. I give you my word I didn’t cheat.’_  
_‘Top class, negotiator at work, but I’m still not buying it!’_

_It was late in the evening when they settled down from their antics around the house. From book balancing speed chess to a race around the gardens with the books still on their heads._

_They're both sitting on the living room sofa, watching TV when Connor receives a text from Hank._  
_ >You have fun today?_  
_ >Today was fun thanks to Markus. :)_  
_ >Uh huh. Well, you better head home before it gets dark. I'll be there in a couple hours. I'm sure Sumo is missing you._  
_ >See you soon, Hank._

_Connor quietly laughs, “Markus, Hank just messaged me asking to go back home and take care of Sumo.”_

_Markus beams, “Right after he kicked you out earlier for spending too much time with Sumo. Do you want me to call you a taxi home? I'll pay.”_

_Connor unconsciously fumbles with his clasped hands, “Oh. Um, thank you, Markus. There's no need for the trouble.”_

_“Trust me, Connor, it's no trouble. One is on its way and should get here in a minute. Come on, I'll help you with your coat and see you out.” Markus gets up to head to the foyer with Connor in tow. Picking off the worn leather coat, he spreads it out for Connor to put on._

_The taxi outside rings, “Well, I should be going then. Thank you for today, Markus. I think that's the first time I had fun with someone while playing silly games.”_

_“You are welcome any time, Connor. Oh! Here, give me your hand.” Connor tilts his head, but complies. Markus retracts his synthetic skin and watches Connor's do the same before pressing it to the scanner of the door. A quick beep later and a female voice suddenly spoke, ‘New identification, verified. Welcome, Connor.’_

_“Wait, Markus. What was that?”_

_“It's so the door will open to let you in anytime you stop by. So long as I'm inside it'll open for you. I'm sure you'll know where to find me whenever I'm not here, but even so.” Markus’s eyes visibly soften again. “You can call me whenever you want — even if you don't have a reason to.”_

Shifting off his coat to put up, Connor looks around the house. It's been a while since Carl had passed away, and Markus ever the sentimental man has kept everything the same. Save for a few knick-knacks littered around given to him by his friends. Connor continues to the living room, the place as eccentric as ever, with a few of Markus' silly flair.

Passing by the coffee table, Connor catches a glimpse of a shiny object in a well-loved book — given by all the folded dog ears. An art book written by Carl Manfred himself. A curious peak further made Connor grin fondly. Inside the bookmark is a pressed dandelion. A shared memory of Markus's comes to mind.

 _Markus can't help but smile while looking at how peaceful Connor is today. His closed eyes, as the sun's rays bounce off his face make him appear like an angel had gently fallen from the sky next to him._  
_It makes Markus glad he took them both to the park just to laze around and gaze at the sky._  
_The RK200 sits up a little to view the light of his life, only to stifle a giggle at the RK800. “You have something in your hair, um... do you want me to get it out?”_

_Connor opens his eyes and his face turns to confusion. “What is it?”_

_Now he could help it, Markus chuckles. “A dandelion.”_

Connor caresses the laminated bookmark in reverence, “Oh, Markus.”

“You called?” Connor startled a bit, looking towards Markus leaning his side on the doorway of the studio. The low light of the studio casts a halo like appearance on his lover, an ethereal being as Jericho makes him out to be.

Connor refuses to sink into that charm so easily and raises an eyebrow, “How long have you been there?”

Markus gives him a smirk in response. “Losing your touch, detective?”  
Instead of any usual answer Markus was expecting out of his lover, Connor instead visibly deflates, his LED turning a bright yellow. He frowns. “Hey, everything ok?”

With a sigh, Connor plops onto the sofa beside him. Markus slides onto it too, bringing his love's head onto his shoulder. He gently rubs at Connor's brushed back hair. “Talk to me?” Markus whispers.

Connor shuffles his head to kiss the middle of his love's shoulder and returns his head to Markus's soothing hand. “It's work. I can’t get it out of my head. I know it's to be kept confidential, but I feel like I should warn you.”

“You don't have to tell me if it's going to get you in trouble, sweetheart.”

“No. I should.” Connor reaches a hand to hold Markus's free one. “Every moment I spend not catching this murderer, the more I worry you or anyone else from Jericho is going to be next. A couple of our people have been murdered in their homes already, and the evidence is slim for my pre-construction to even do anything. I'm afraid for everyone, afraid for you.”

Markus slowly parts, bringing Connor by the shoulders to face him. “Connor, never a day goes by when I don't forget what you've done for all of us. And, I know our people hasn't always been that welcoming to you.” His lover pulls his gaze away at the mention. Markus gently pulling Connor's eyes back to his.  
“Yet, here you are still fighting for all of us. You have a kind soul and a sharp mind, love. I know you'll find that killer soon, you don't have to worry about me, and I'll be sure to warn our people in Jericho.”

Connor grimaces, “Please, Markus. Always be careful. I don't think I can take knowing you're gone when I could've prevented it.”

Markus offers a fond little smile, “You don't think I feel the same about you? Everyday you're out on the field has my mind running in circles to know if you're ok. It takes a lot from me to keep from spamming you with messages to ask.” He laughs when Connor looks as if he's frowning but the amused pull on his lips betrays his real thought.

Connor chuckles with his lover’s laughter, “We're a mess, aren't we?”

“Mhm.” At the short answer Connor unconsciously analyses the RK200 for further comment. What he finds though is Markus staring longingly at his lips.

A burst of short laughter leaves Connor as he wraps his hands onto Markus's cheeks, brushing the slight stubble with his fingers. “You know you don't need to ask, right?”

“Caught red-handed by the hunter himself.” Markus muses, pulling his lips to engulf his lover's own. The skin on his cheeks receding to Connor's porcelain hands, as he places his own to mess with his sweetheart's hair.

A gasp escapes Connor, despite all claims of not being reliant on breathing. It was always delightfully suffocating to kiss the man in front of him, but as for tonight... “Mmph.” Markus smushes whatever he was about to say, groaning. “Mar- mmph!” Connor feels his lover's lips part to nip at his own lower lip. Markus smirking in satisfaction for drawing out a quiet moan from Connor’s throat.

When Markus let go enough to continue however, Connor slowly pulls Markus's flushed face away from his own, rubbing circles with his thumbs under all the blue. He chuckles as the loving man before him pouts with all he has. “We should stop, love. It's way too late.”

Markus continues to pout for a few seconds in a feeble attempt to beg Connor to let them continue. But his love — tempting as he was with his hair gone curly and his face flushed a sweet blue — wasn't budging. Instead he was smiling with his soft fingers still rubbing lovingly on his cheeks. Defeated, Markus grabs at both hands. “Alright, alright,” pressing a kiss to the palms with each word, “we'll stop.”  
He gets up without letting go of their hands. “Besides, I think this a good time to show you what I've been working on recently.” Markus pulls them by the hands towards the inside of the studio.

Connor follows eagerly, he wasn't integrated to be an art enthusiast. Though ever since becoming deviant and had been given the opportunity to witness Markus paint, it brings a pang of admiration in his eyes for the kind painter to let him witness them first before anyone else in the world.

Markus pulls away to slide the curtain away from the giant canvas. A breath sounds from Connor, whose eyes are glued to the colorful blue hues of a person amongst the white and yellow streaks of flowers. Looking attentive at every detail to each corner, Connor spots a signature and a name. _“Dandelion.”_ He says.

Markus smiles proudly at the mention of his piece, “You're a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”  
Connor looks wide-eyed at his love, blinking in confusion a second later. Markus chuckles, “Go on and look up the flower's meaning.”

It barely took a second to, but even longer for Connor to comprehend the flower’s meaning. How intimate it meant to Markus, “Markus, I don't — is that _me_?” Connor nearly whispers the last part in realization his eyes gliding back to the portrait.

“It is.” Connor feels a hand slide over his, setting their hands a glow of white as they connect. Their eyes, focused on the bright painting. “I’ll show you why.”

Survival, intelligence, warmth, healing, youthful and long-lasting happiness, a wish granted.

“I love you, Connor. I hope it shown through my painting just how beautiful you are to me.” Markus relies on their shared connection for an answer. A jolt of emotion runs through them; wait. “Connor?” A broken groan replies him as he turns to look at the other. “What's wrong, sweetheart?”

Connor squeezes their joined hands as he wipes away his tears with his free one. “I'm happy, but I'm crying. I don't know why, but, I know that painting means a lot to me. I never thought anyone would care for me this much after I deviated. Thank you, Markus.”

Markus ends the connection and pulls Connor in gently into his arms. A slow sway to his steps. “Oh, Connor. Feeling and seeing you cry makes me want to cry too.” He rubs circles onto his lover’s shaky frame. “There’s no need to thank me for anything, love. All I have is yours.” His love buries his head into the crook of his neck and holds tight around his chest. Markus giggles fondly as he places several chaste kisses to Connor's neck. “I'm really glad you love the painting, I just didn't expect you to cry in happiness once I showed it to you. I don’t know whether to feel bad or honored for making you cry like this.”

A shaky breath pulls out, mouth watery as Connor speaks, “I guess, I still have a lot to learn on emotions if I'm crying from happiness. Emotions are still too complicated.” A rumble of laughter leaves both of them, both still slow dancing in step to the rhythm of their shared love.

With a soft kiss to his lover's neck, Connor admits. “I love you too, Markus. With all my heart.”

Markus grins, his heart swells. “The world can't stop us both, then. We'll be fine, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> huhu im a weakling for flower meanings 0|-<
> 
> drop by my [twitter](http://twitter.com/grisianoots) or [tumblr](https://www.grisiasun.tumblr.com) and feed me more rk1k dont be shy please im dehydrated  
> if you like what I do it'll help motivate me more if you help out here [ko-fi!](http://ko-fi.com/tinynoots)
> 
> thank for reading :))
> 
> ps hank is good dadbro lookin out for his boi, smart power move


End file.
